


The end days.

by Alexander_Fenris



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Gen, Suicide mention, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Fenris/pseuds/Alexander_Fenris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leon always though the end of his own days would come with a massive outbreak. He didn’t expected them to be anything like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The end days.

Leon always though the end of his own days would come with a massive outbreak. He didn’t expected them to be anything like this.  
Of all the ways to see the end of his days, this was the least expected. He wasn’t dying. Not really. But it pretty much felt like it. He stared at the tv, the sound muted, not actually looking at whatever was on screen.  
He knew that as time passed, his fight against bio-terrorism would likely come to an halt. He honestly thought his end would come on the field, from a terrible virus or just eaten alive. Seeing the day of his retirement had never been something he even thought about.  
Not that he wanted to retire, but he had to agree with his superiors. He wasn’t 27 anymore, his reflexes were getting slow, he wasn’t as keen as he used to. Not as witty as back then. His presence on the field was most likely to get him, and others, killed.  
All left was a desk job. Which he didn’t disagree with. But he worked only four months before the insomnia started creeping in. At first he thought it was simply because of the extreme change, passing from intense activity to sitting in a chair all day. But a month in, not only he wasn’t used to it, it was actually worst. At the last month he couldn’t sleep at all, and of course this meant he could barely work anymore.  
It had been a month since then, and he started to think this only meant his end was coming.  
Or maybe it was just sleep deprivation telling him that.  
In all cases, the doctor couldn’t find anything yet. No cancer, no illness, nothing out of the norm, no virus… It didn’t change that the meds he was taking had no effect and every day passing was wearing him thin.  
He had started to hallucinate a few weeks ago.

What irritated him the most, was that out of all person he had work with, he was hallucinating Jack Krauser.

He couldn’t deny that Jack had a massive impact in his life. He was his first military partner. The first man he trained with and work with.  
He also was the first of his partner to fall, to betray him for the power given by Bio-weapons. To say it didn’t affect him was a lie he kept well hidden. Yet it didn’t affect him just because it was Jack as a person. It was because Jack had chosen to give his life for his country to fight the incoming plague. Why a disability had been enough to drive him to turn his back to this way and agree to work with the enemy for his own gain of power?  
He couldn’t tell.

In all cases the apparition seem more frequent. “Good old” Jack. Still the same, stuck at the end of his thirties, blond slicked back hairs. The same scar, the same predatory eyes.  
At first Leon was sure it was the man. He had charged and attack the illusion several time, but each time the same thing would happen. Krauser would disappear and he wouldn’t find him through the whole apartment and area. The job had took his gun, too dangerous, so all left was knives to throw at the ghost. A few of his walls had indentation from trying to kill something that wasn’t there. He got used to it after a few week, ignoring the apparition. No use in chasing memories his mind was projecting before his eyes.  
Sometimes he wondered.

Would the “ghost” find this extremely sad? Watching a man so strong and proud, a man who survive all odds end to this point? Crazed, on edge, mad eyes watching each shadow like a monster would pop at him?  
The hallucination was distracting him, making him think. If he was real, he thought of why he would have come here in the first place. Nostalgia maybe. Most of his ex partner were probably dead. Would he actually be surprised to learn that the agent had survived long enough to make it to paper work job? Would he feel the need to see him, to see the look of the path he could have chosen?  
He would probably expect him to feel relief and confirmation that his choice had been the right one. Actually pretty much anyone would feel such way upon seeing the soldier right now. Aged, weaken, borderline crazy, out of a job. Would he feel was a hint of sadness and pity? After giving your whole life and sanity to a cause as mad as to fight bio-terrorism, wouldn’t one deserve happiness? Of course human aren’t that simple. Leon would only have reached a level of happiness if he had manages to put an end to bio-terrorism. Yet it was worst than ever.  
Leon had seen it all. Seen his fight doing nothing to stop the inevitable. See his life worth of work done for nothing.  
Leon wouldn’t admit it but it was killing him. To have devoted his life to such a futile effort and knowing it.One day the illusion appeared as Leon was vouched over the kitchen counter, a few bottle of alcohol beside him. He was holding a shot glass, eyes clouded by the drink. He enjoyed drinking, to a certain level, never anything close to make him lose control. It just show how much he was looking for an escaped, tired both emotionally and physically.

The ghost stepped into the light, observing the ex agent roll the glass between his fingers. After a moment the roll stop and Leon eye shift toward him. The hallucination was so real, the moment he passed from shadow to light, just like a real person. Leon was no artist, so he couldn’t help but marvel that his mind just “knew” how to project the man like he was already there, lighting and all. The glass was set on the table as the man gaze return to it, it was no use marveling to what his sick mind was showing him.

“What are you doing here” he finally said in a slurred cracked voice. His other hand moving to brush his own forehead. Maybe, this time, the illusion would answer him. He wouldn’t object some company, even if it was with lies. People he knew, his friend and the one he considered family weren’t around, and it was fine. He preferred them out there, fighting for the good cause, rather than being here, worrying over his pitiful state. Still, he couldn’t hide he was lonely.  
Krauser only played his ghost part staying silent.  
“What the hell did I do to deserve this.” he then said more silently. “To end this way. To be haunted by ghost. Didn’t I did my freaking good action for the NEXT HUNDRED YEARS?!” he started in a low tone before suddenly yelling, one of the empty bottle being thrown without a warning to a nearby wall. It just had caught him in a flare, fine a moment, despair hitting him the second. I happened a lot lately. Probably had to do with the fact he was going to die. Nobody had told him yet but he kinda knew it.  
Krauser moved from his spot to pull a chair and move it in front of Leon grabbing the glass shot and pouring himself some from the one of the more than half empty bottle. If he was real he could smell Leon’s breath from where he was before, now, it would be probably obvious of how close he was to pass out from the sheer level of alcohol. The traitor shifted searching for a clean glass, then filling it with water and giving it to the agent.  
He only got a tired crazed out look, that stayed even after he had took the shot glass and drank it, then pouring him another. The glass of water was ignored as Leon continued to stare at him before letting out a loud sight. “Did I make the right choices?” was finally ask before Leon’s hand closed into a fist in his hairs, looking like he was to jerk on them. However, they didn’t move even as if the knuckle were white from the strain.  
“Did you have any?” Krauser answered back.  
Leon’s eyes set back on him looking even more tired than second before, the black ring under his eyes only adding to the overall look of a man about to lose his last strand of sanity.  
A low chuckle.  
“To…to many times I could have…” he started before the words seem stuck in his throat. “I could…so many things I could have done differently.”  
“You can’t save everyone comrade.”  
“Save people? Oh I already know that no matter how hard I try I cannot save anyone. That is not what I meant” the younger blond slurred out eyes on Krauser glass.  
At that Krauser frowned. The illusion would probably wonder what else could plague Leon’s mind other than if took two second more to breath, that this could have made an incidence on someone’s death?  
“What if my path just was something else from the start? And I just….just…kept fighting over it when I should have just gave in?”  
“What path?” Krauser asked as if curious. Did Leon Scott Kennedy actually had several time considered another path? The same path he took, the selfish one, to take all for himself and screw the rest? Leon was the classical white knight, always up to help the innocent, never selfish, always ready to jump into a fire and end his own life to protect others. He might not seem like it, hidden behind experience and a terrible sense of humor, but once you knew him you could almost see a damn aura of pure goodness coming out of the man.

There was hesitation and for a moment probably an episode of micro sleep.

“If I had given up. If I had asked to team up with you in Spain, would you have taken me?”  
“I was working with Wesker back then.”  
Leon stayed silent to that answer like stopping himself to wander further.  
“In all cases, if you had given up, the plaga would have obeyed to Sadler. Not me or Wesker.”  
“Even if he was dead?”  
Krauser chuckled. What was this line of thoughts right now?  
“If you didn’t got rid of the plaga you wouldn’t have been able to kill Sadler”  
“But you could have”  
“I wouldn’t. I needed a sample. If I could have got it without killing Sadler, I wouldn’t have”  
“Left me all alone in Saddler’s clutches hun?”  
The tone suggested Leon usual jokes, but his eyes only show tiredness as if searching something to hang on to.  
“What if I asked you now?”  
It was Krauser’s ghost turn to hesitate.  
“I’m dead Leon. There isn’t much I can do. Plus let’s say I was alive, I would most probably be working with people on the wrong side.”  
“What if I said I don’t care?”  
Even drunk Leon could see it. A glimpse of surprise in the hallucination’s eye. Him, Leon S Kennedy, working for someone like Wesker that didn’t care one bit about human life? He knew it showed just how desperate and ill he was.  
“You wouldn’t last two weeks without cracking because we killed some puppy” he answered bluntly.  
Leon shifted his head on his arms to the side closing his eyes.  
He looked like he had really gone to sleep this time until the silence was suddenly broke. “I want to see the end of this war.” it was low almost whispered.  
“I don’t think it will ever end. Nobody seem to care. They will when this world will be destroyed by BOWs”  
“Isn’t that why it’s important to keep on fighting?”  
“You’re too old now Leon”  
A chuckle then silence again. It feel strange for Krauser to tell him that. Too old. It was ironic. If Krauser was alive, it would make him way older than Leon. But then again, when Jack died, he wasn’t really human anymore.  
This time there was no more question coming from the tired man showing after a few minutes that this time he did had fallen into morpheus’s arms.  
That could have been him if he had followed Leon’s path. Seeing his end as a weak human when he had been offered immortality several time. But then again, one had survived all these years, when the other had died on the field, betraying what used to be his ideals. In his sleep Leon swear he could feel a gentle hand on his shoulder. He probably looked so miserable, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he had given up. But then again, Leon resilience won over his own new inhuman strength at the time and he couldn’t help but wonder what he could have become if he had made the same choices as Krauser.  
Leon rested an hour and fifteen minutes. He could probably have rested more, but the blond was obviously woken up by his stomach deciding to tell him that it didn’t agree with all the alcohol he ingested and decided to return it where it came from.

The day had been a blur. Flashing lights, white walls, bland head with no faces. Words and images still resonated in his head as he returned home from the hospital. Instructions, possibilities, questions.He only came back home 8 hours later. It was getting dark, but for some reason the aging blond never open up the light. He merely moved to the living room, sitting on the couch then grabbing the tv remote. But he never pressed the power button. He seemed to have just frozen there for a long time. Information coming back to him clearly instead of the blur they seem to be stuck in. He stayed unmoving for a while before the remote was sent crashing down the tv, making a small dent and splitting the screen into a spider web.What happened after would make any veteran freeze where he was. Leon had rushed to the fireplace grabbing one of the decorative fire poker, and started to smash and destroy everything in the room.

Leon had been angry before. But furiously mad like this? Never. Leon wasn’t violent even with the job he had. He would talk first, use fist last. Anyone seeing him rage out like that shattering everything he could have a hold on would just show them how exhausted and on his very limit the man was.He wasn’t too sure how long the tantrum was but eventually, the ex agent let go of his bent weapon, and crash down on the remain of the sofa. Krauser shifted forward and Leon caught it raising his head to look at him before a smile flashed on his face, followed by a short almost crazy laugh.  
“I guess it make sense now” Leon uttered low.The illusion had stopped in it’s track when Leon had laughed.  
“What does?” Krauser asked almost looking too curious to let pass such an enigmatic statement.  
“You. All of you.” he just said before noticing the wondering gaze into what he thought was nothing but an illusion. “Why you did what you did. Why you are here now.” he said brushing his hands together. There were some small cut on them from a glass he had punch his fist at.  
“Care to explain.”  
Leon looked at him puzzled. Possibly wondering why his “own mind” was asking him such a question.  
“There’s a mass in my brain. Cancer. Inoperable. It’s already too big, too deep in.”  
Cancer. Brain cancer. Leon Scott Kennedy, the one who survived the impossible was to meet his end by brain cancer. He’s now nose to nose with death and for the first time in his life, there was absolutely nothing he could do. After giving everything selflessly, he was rewarded with this. Krauser shifted toward the bathroom, before reappearing with some alcohol and bandages, sitting beside him gently grabbing the trembling hand. Leon let him, curious, watching as the bigger man removed small shard of glass stuck in the skin with tweezers before patching up the skin. It was so real, he had seen the ghost move some object before but he always thought it was just him who had moved them without knowing during one of the white noise phases he had so often lately. The ex agent looked so lonely, so tiny and defeated. Once Krauser was done, Leon just let go and let his head rest on Krauser’s shoulder. Real or not he had stopped caring a moment ago.“You’re awfully solid for something that isn’t real” he commented.  
“Maybe because I am real” the older just said. Leon just stayed there silently. Normally he would have jumped and looked for a weapon. But now he didn’t care. His fate would be the same no matter what. So it didn’t matter in the end if Krauser was there, a ghost, or he was just currently hanging his head on emptiness, the feeling of real skin only in his mind.  
“That doesn’t piss you off?” Krauser asked after no comment came.  
“I’ll be dead before I know it. I’m weak, tired, my head is in constant pain. If you want to come at me princess, go ahead, can’t be worst than what’s waiting for me.”  
“You have a headache?”  
“Small one, just annoying. I thought it was because of the lack of sleep”  
“They didn’t saw anything before?”  
“Passing an MRI is still not part of the protocol.”  
“Shouldn’t it be? Mind controlling parasite are quite the trend now a day.”  
“Because these parasite change the hormones and leave traces in the blood work. No need for a MRI when you can tell in 20 second with a blood sample.”  
“And nobody thought we could have engineered one that doesn’t leave any trace?”  
“You know. Government. Always three step too late. If it wasn’t of my intervention, Ashley would have made it to the country without any problem, even with the blood sample. It was only after that they added steps.”  
It was true. True back then, still true today. Steps were made only when the worst had happened, even if they had seen it coming. It always had been like that everywhere, why would it change now?  
There was silence for a while, then it come slow and hesitantly.  
“Do…you still have…”friends” who could…take care of this problem?”  
The ex agent really was starting to look for a way out. Any way out.  
“Maybe…” Krauser answered with a smirk.

 

Sherry had an instinct that something was going on with Leon for a while now. But they all had extremely busy life, away from home. She couldn’t just go to his apartment knock and ask how he was. Even a call was complicated to get through.  
The first hint had been his early retirement. Leon was a worker, through and through, he couldn’t just sit in his home watching tv or doing nothing for a while. Even if he was no longer able to work on the field, she had expected him to take a behind the scene job. Commander, general, a tactician, field support line…  
So she called the moment she had a break, to know how he was and how things were going.  
Leon never answered the call.  
Claire had been the second on the list, but the woman herself barely had time on her own and she wasn’t living even close to the ex agent’s home.  
Even if everything was pointing how something was very wrong, even if in their job, the worst could come in every possible ways, giving pure agony to both the deceased and the witness, she was still in shock when she had learned a while after that Leon had killed himself.  
Thoroughly planned. A letter was left for all of his friend, a pre recorded call had been dropped to the 911 line. No mess, just a dead body.  
The letter was lengthy, not only explained the very obvious reason of his choice, but it was clear that he did everything he could so neither Sherry neither Claire would hate themselves for not being here for him. He had made sure nobody knew about his state and even managed to fool Hunnigan, so that nobody would be worried for him.  
She still feel an endless amount of guilt. Jake had tried to comfort her. She had a meeting with the doctor, he had made it clear that Leon’s cancer was inoperable and terminal.even at this day and age. He could have tried treatment, but chances were so slim, he probably decided his time had come. She still believe something could have been done. She could have done something, anything. It was irrational, she knew it. But he had helped her so much, save her from the impossible, she couldn’t help but feel she should have done the same, push the limit of the believable to find a cure, to save him.  
It was odd, that Leon luck in terrible time hadn’t strike this time.  
“I’m sorry” she whispered to his grave as tears rolled down her face Jake arm around her. She didn’t even made it to the funeral. Claire had told her not to hate herself for it, that Leon probably wouldn’t even wish for a funeral. To keep things simple, less painful.  
“What a jerk” was let out from behind them and she turned around to see an aged Ada Wong. Still beautiful, but no longer the eternal early 30’s she used to breath. The woman had moved beside them with a glowing cube she put on the tombstone. “He should have called me” she added in a more muted tone.  
Sherry couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t alone with the wishful thinking that something could have been done. Nothing more was said. There was nothing to say. They all stood there in silence as night started to fall.  
“I’m paying dinner” Ada finally said. “If you wish to come” she offered as she walked down on the aisle. Sherry only stare a short while at the tomb before agreeing with Jake to follow. The spy wasn’t usually that friendly, but they had lost something that day and Sherry knew that they all felt responsible for it. They should have been there, was probably everyone’s thought.  
It was only when she was in the car that she remember what she was here for, and she told Jake to wait before she ran back to the tombstone, frowning as she approaches to notice a fifth visitor had came by the grave.

She had to give it to Leon, the medal she was wearing in raccoon city, a memento of their first time, of that time he gave everything to take her alive and well out of the city. She couldn’t leave without giving it to him.  
So she approached the tall figure and moved beside him to place the medal on the tombstone.  
She gave a quick glance toward the man. Obviously a soldier, probably someone Leon worked with. End thirties, blond with a red beret on his head, scars on his face showing the traces of combat, sharp blue eyes observing her as well.  
He was familiar, maybe she had seen some file about him, but she couldn’t remember.  
“It’s hard to believe he’s dead isn’t it?” she offered. Leon resilience was legendary, everyone agreed that thinking of the agent as gone wasn’t something they actually expected to happen.  
He smiled at that, agreeing, almost knowing.  
“You would expect for him to crawl out of that grave at any moment” he offered.

“Yeah” she answered sadly, another tear falling off her eye. They definitely would. “We are having a dinner, if you wish to come” she offered. She really didn’t knew who he was, but any of Leon’s friend was more than welcome with them.  
“I have something to do tonight” was cut sharply.  
Sherry only nodded. There wasn’t anything to be added to this. “Good evening” she bid as she walked back down the alley, the sun finally setting behind them.  
Krauser looked at her leaving, waiting a moment for any other visitors before he sit on the tombstone looking at his watch, counting the time.  
It was well into the night when his cellphone rang, breaking the silence.  
“Seem like someone was comfortable down there. Took you long enough to wake up!”


End file.
